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your use of the word “explain” is far from justified.’
    ‘Believe me, I’m all too well aware of that, and I offer my apologies…’
    ‘We won’t hear a word of it, Walter,’ said Sophia gently. ‘You did your best, and we are most grateful.’
    ‘There was one thing…’ Goodman-Brown continued hesitantly.
    ‘Yes?’ said Blackwood. ‘Go on; any impression you can recall will be of use, I’m sure.’
    ‘Well… there was something about the thing… a part of it which gave the impression of not being alien.’
    Blackwood and Sophia glanced at each other, while Sullivan looked at all three of them and shook his head, wondering what kind of lunatics he had allowed into his depot.
    ‘I had the impression of tendrils of some kind…’
    ‘Tendrils?’ said Blackwood.
    ‘Or perhaps filaments is a better word. Very fine filaments… like wires, almost. I think it used them to open the connecting doors between the carriages, but I don’t think they were actually a part of it.’
    ‘Most intriguing,’ murmured Blackwood. ‘Did you gain any impression as to why it attacked Alfie Morgan?’
    ‘It didn’t attack him,’ Goodman-Brown replied. ‘It was merely observing him, perhaps out of curiosity… or perhaps for some other reason I cannot fathom. At any rate, it didn’t touch him – although its mere presence was sufficient to completely undermine his sanity!’
    ‘So, where does this leave us?’ wondered Sophia.
    ‘It leaves us with more questions than answers, I’m afraid,’ Blackwood replied with a faint, rueful smile. ‘And a rather fine mess in our laps. Mr Goodman-Brown’s experience proves that there’s something far stranger than mere ghosts abroad on the Underground. Something that is definitely not of this world.’
    Goodman-Brown shook his head. ‘I’m sorry, Mr Blackwood, but it’s even worse than that. The thing I saw, the thing which drove Alfie Morgan insane… not only is it foreign to this world, I believe that it is foreign to our very universe!’

PART TWO
    Mysteries of the Worm
     

CHAPTER ONE:
A Conversation with Mr Shanahan
    Blackwood and Sophia offered to take Walter Goodman-Brown home to recuperate from his dreadful experience on the train. He declined, however, saying that he had already recovered sufficiently, and would appreciate it if they could take him back to the SPR headquarters, where he intended to write a full report of the morning’s events.
    ‘I must say I admire your fortitude, sir,’ said Blackwood, as the hansom entered Marloes Road in Kensington and came to a halt outside Number 49.
    ‘Thank you,’ the psychometrist replied. ‘In fact, it’s imperative that I record my impressions of the contact analysis without delay. I’m sure it will make a most interesting and valuable piece for the SPR Journal – in addition, I hope, to aiding with your investigation.’
    ‘You may have no doubt of that.’
    ‘Perhaps you and I could retire to my office, Thomas,’ said Sophia. ‘I believe we need to discuss these developments further.’
    ‘Of course,’ Blackwood replied as he stepped down from the cab and offered his hand to Sophia.
    The headquarters of the Society for Psychical Research were housed in a large, elegant but rather nondescript Georgian building with four stories and a whitewashed facade. Once inside, Goodman-Brown took his leave of Blackwood and Sophia, who climbed the stairs to Sophia’s office, which was located on the first floor.
    This was the first time Blackwood had visited his colleague’s professional domain, and he was both amused and delighted at the feminine touches which had been applied to the room’s otherwise drably academic mien. There were large vases filled with flowers set on tables before the two tall sash windows, and several photographs upon those sections of the walls which were not obscured by heavily-stacked bookcases and file cabinets. He noted that the photographs were mainly of family gatherings,